


Sing Me To Sleep

by Liralen



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Prostitution, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 11:25:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liralen/pseuds/Liralen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen's a pricy escort; Jared's a client with an unusual request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sing Me To Sleep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tebtosca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tebtosca/gifts).



> Written for the spn_j2_xmas gift exchange for tebtosca, for the prompt "A is a hooker that B pays to let them have sex with while asleep (or drugged)."

It isn't the weirdest request Jensen has ever had. It feels like it should be, and a part of Jensen worries that he's lost perspective, but after three years in this line of work he's seen and heard and done a lot. What this guy wants doesn't even crack the top five.  
  
So when the guy finally manages to stutter out, blushing and staring at the ground, that he wants to fuck Jensen while he's sleeping, Jensen thinks it over a minute, mentally calculating the various risk factors and assigning them dollars values, and then calmly names a price.  
  
"What?" the guy asks, blinking stupidly.  
  
Jensen repeats the number. "Unless you want to drug me, then it's going to be extra and the venue's going to have to change to somewhere the company can watch on camera."  
  
"You--really? You're seriously okay with that?"  
  
"You seriously ready to pay for it?" Jensen snarks back, a little annoyed because the guy looks less than thrilled, and honestly, it's fair market price for the kind of service Jensen delivers. What does he think, he can just flash a shy smile and a pair of ridiculous dimples and get some kind of discount? Jensen doesn't do discounts for good-looking guys. Good-looking guys, in Jensen's experience, want the most fucked-up things from him. Case in point.  
  
"Yes! Yeah, absolutely," the guy rushes to reassure, hand falling to his pocket like he's ready to show Jensen the money right now. Mollified, Jensen waves him away, and his hand drops to his side. He takes a deep, steadying breath, letting it out long and slow, and Jensen watches the tight line of his shoulders relax as some of the tension drains away.  
  
"So," Jensen says, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and tapping the end against the flat of his palm, just to have something to occupy his hands. "Let's talk logistics. Where, and when, and how do you want this?"  
  
"Right now," the guy breathes, and then, at Jensen's arched brow of judgment, cracks a small, self-deprecating smile. "Um. Not right now? Right. That's probably kind of soon. You've got, like, a schedule, right? When d'you think you could fit---uhh, I mean, when's your next—um…"  
  
"…opening?" Jensen finishes for him, not even trying now not to smirk. The guy's a freak, but he's kind of an _adorable_ freak, and if he blushes any harder he's going to pop a blood vessel. Jensen can work with that.  
  
"I'm booked for the weekend, I think, but I'll have Katie—you talked to her on the phone, yeah?—take a look and call you with a day and time. Just give her your address and your credit card info and it's a date. Don't worry," he assures wryly at the guy's startled look, "it gets billed as Silverlight Media Corp. I don't want "Jensen the gay hooker" showing up on your tax return any more than you do."  
  
"Jensen," the guy says, and it's Jensen's turn to startle just a little as his name rolls off the guy's tongue, followed quickly by a tiny but sincere smile. "I like that. I'm Jared."  
  
"Nice to make your acquaintance, Jared," Jensen drawls, letting his accent drag out and exaggerate. "Be seeing y'all real soon."  
  
*  
  
Katie sets up the appointment for the next Tuesday, the first spot open in Jensen's busy schedule. She enters it in Jensen's calendar as "hot cowboy with the sleeping beauty thing," and in revenge Jensen takes her sandwich out of the fridge the next morning and takes a huge bite out of it, then wraps it neatly back up and returns it to its brown paper bag. He isn't around at lunchtime, but he's heard her indignant shriek enough times to imagine the scene.  
  
Jared's decided he doesn't want to drug Jensen ( _not the first time_ , and jesus, a shiver goes down Jensen's spine at that and he can't tell how much of it is fear), so the date goes down at Jared's apartment. Jensen doesn't sleep the night before, just to make sure he's exhausted when he shows up, and even then he's afraid he won't be able to fall asleep. Jared opens the door to his apartment with a grin, nervous excitement pouring off of him as he gestures Jensen inside, and Jensen feels the nerves squirm in his belly.  
  
He doesn't know if he can do this. Some of his clients in the past have been so boring Jensen's wished he could nod off in the middle of things, but faced now with the _need_ to sleep, he feels like he's wired with energy. Jared leads him to the bedroom, and for a long moment Jensen just stands staring at the bed, throat trembling convulsively with a need to swallow he won't give in to.  
  
"This may take a little while," he says finally, voice rough and wet.  
  
"That's okay," Jared tells him, eager to reassure. "That's okay, I know. Take all the time you need. We've got the whole night, right?" Jensen nods mutely, and Jared nods back. "Take your time. Can I do anything to help? You want some tea or something?"  
  
"…Maybe a beer?" Jensen suggests, flicking a glance up through his lashes, half inquiring, and half because he knows how good it looks. "If it's not any trouble."  
  
"No trouble at all." Jared smiles, warm and relaxed, and leads Jensen to the family room before heading to the kitchen to get a beer. His steps are quiet; when he returns, a bottle of Lone Star tucked in one massive paw, Jensen sees that he's barefoot.  
  
Jared's different here, Jensen realizes. He's still soft-spoken; still flushes faintly pink when he's caught eyeing the strip of Jensen's stomach that's bared when Jensen uses the edge of his shirt to twist the cap off the beer; still watches Jensen's throat work with hungry appreciation. But he's more relaxed in his home, more laid-back and less skittish, his smile coming a touch easier.  
  
Jensen sips the bottle of Lone Star as they lean against opposite walls and chat about nothing much, and he finds himself trying to remember the last time he did this. Just—talked to someone, someone who wasn't Katie or his momma. Someone who looked at Jensen like they wanted to peel his jeans off and know his opinion about the latest trade the Mavericks made, who cared enough to try to make him laugh, to put him anything like at ease. Because despite himself, Jensen _is_ feeling at ease, lulled into the gentle warmth of Jared's easy conversation, his lingering glances, and—yeah, okay, maybe a few more bottles of Lone Star.  
  
"Whoa, steady," Jared says, reaching out to catch a hand around Jensen's hip as Jensen sways on his feet. Jared ducks down a little so they're the same height, hazel eyes studying him carefully. "Gettin' sleepy?"  
  
"Gettin' drunk," Jensen quips back truthfully, then ruins it with a jaw-cracking yawn. "Mmm, yeah, sleepy too. Is there somewhere I can—"  
  
"Right through here," Jared cuts in, just a touch too eager, and some small fragment of Jensen's good sense snaps back awake and remembers why he's here and what he needs to do. But the rest of him is half-drunk and going on 40 hours without sleep, and Jared's arm is warm and firm at his back, and it's easy to let Jared lead him to the bedroom, to let him lay Jensen down and carefully remove his clothes. Jensen tries to help, but Jared stops him with gentle sounds and quiet murmurs, and eventually he gives up, burrows under the covers Jared pulls around him and lets his eyes close, and within minutes he's fast asleep.  
  
*  
  
Jensen's body laid out beneath him is like something from a dream. Better than a dream, even—a memory. Though Jared's never seen him like this, never seen the sweet curve of his thighs or the pale, vulnerable skin of his inner arms, he knows the expression on Jensen's face. Open and unguarded in sleep, mouth soft and full as a ripe piece of fruit, the delicate fan of red-blonde lashes against his freckled cheeks: Jared has seen this before.  
  
He watched Jensen rock to sleep against the slick vinyl of a subway train, watched the years melt off his too-thin, too-pretty face, and wanted in a way he's never wanted before. Wanted for months, obsessively, single-mindedly, searching the city for any glimpse of the man he'd watched for half an hour as he tumbled through dreams. Hardly able to believe his luck when he'd stumbled across Jensen's picture on a website advertising 'discreet male companions' and realized that what he wanted was his for the taking. Or rather—the purchase. A very, very costly purchase.  
  
He reaches out carefully, gliding a fingertip over the arch of Jensen's brow, tracing down beneath one eye to barely brush the curve of his cheek. Looking at him like this, young and soft in sleep, Jared has no doubt that he would have paid ten times the price that Jensen named, even if he'd had to mortgage his house to find the money, and never regretted a penny.  
  
He leans in, watching the flicker of Jensen's eyes beneath the lids, and slowly, so painstakingly slowly, touches his lips to the full bow of Jensen's mouth. When it elicits no reaction, Jared dares to press a slightly firmer kiss, rubbing their mouths gently together until they're warm and damp with breath. Jensen's mouth trembles, and Jared freezes, watching from too close as his brow crinkles faintly. A thick pulse of heat goes through him as Jensen's face goes lax again with sleep, and Jared has to pull back and take a few deep breaths through his nose to calm himself before he can go on.  
  
He brushes his lips down Jensen's throat, traces the strong cord of tendon back up with his tongue and resists the urge to bare his teeth and _bite_. His hands span Jensen's trim waist easily, thumbs overlapping at his navel, then spreading apart as he slides them up the long line of Jensen's chest. Jensen flinches a little beneath him as his fingertips tickle the sensitive spaces between ribs, and Jared firms his touch, pushing his mouth to Jensen's stomach and murmuring soothing nonsense, gentling him back to sleep. He's so hard he can't stop himself from rocking his own hips against the mattress, stifling a moan against the silky skin of Jensen's lower belly.  
  
Working slowly and haltingly, with infinite patience, Jared eases Jensen's thighs apart until he can crawl between them. Jensen's cock lies tender and pink against one thigh, already starting to thicken. As Jared watches it twitches and fills a little more. Swallowing against the sudden dryness in his mouth, Jared parts his lips and breathes hot and damp over the head, his own cock jerking between his thighs as Jensen's flushes darker and tries to rise.  
  
"Beautiful," Jared murmurs, almost without sound, the shape of the word dragging his bottom lip against the sensitive skin. Unable to hold himself back anymore, Jared licks his lips to wet fullness and opens his mouth wide, engulfing Jensen's half-hard cock easily and choking back a whine as he feels the shaft lengthen and fill inside his mouth, until he's struggling to take it all, spit sliding down his chin.  
  
He flicks his gaze up, searching Jensen's face. The other man's still asleep, but his mouth is open and he's breathing harder now, the tiny muscles around his eyes twitching rhythmically. He's starting to surface, his throat working in small spasms and lashes fluttering, and Jared doesn't look away as Jensen's eyes finally open and lock right on him.  
  
*  
  
Jensen's having the best dream. There's a guy underneath him, a gorgeous, narrow-hipped boy with smooth golden skin and a soft pink mouth from which he sucks greedy kisses. They're rocking together, naked, pushing and grinding where the heat pools, low and tight, and he's, he feels—he just needs—  
  
He wakes up with a gasp and a feeling like falling off the edge of the earth. For one heart-pounding moment he can't remember where he is, and panic floods him. The next instant his mind catches up to the sensation of slick wet heat enclosing his cock, and his panic is driven away by sharp, astounding pleasure.  
  
Without thought Jensen's hands find their way to Jared's head, fisting in his hair as Jensen arches his back mindlessly, still drunk with sleep, and pushes himself deep into Jared's throat. He comes with a wordless, shuddering gasp, comes so hard it almost _hurts_ , leaves him breathless and trembling. He's staring at Jared without really seeing him; doesn't register how tightly he's still clutching Jared's hair, the tears pooling in Jared's eyes, the rhythmic push of Jared's hips into the bed. He doesn't wake up completely until Jared stiffens and comes, mouth pulling automatically at Jensen's spent cock, and then it _does_ hurt, shocking Jensen to alertness as he pulls away with a whine.  
  
Jared coughs, a trickle of come spilling down his chin that he wipes up carefully and sucks from his fingers before collapsing next to Jensen on the bed. Jensen turns his face away, embarrassed. It's not that he doesn't come with clients, because he does, a lot of the time, if that's what they want. He's just never lost control like that, never single-mindedly pursued his own pleasure while he was on someone else's time. It's… (scary, vulnerable, _not safe_ )… unprofessional.  
  
"I'm sorry," Jensen apologizes when he can finally make himself speak. His voice is still low and rough with sleep; from the corner of his eye, he can see Jared shiver.  
  
"Why?" Jared asks.  
  
"For… getting caught up in the moment. Forgetting myself." Jensen swallows, closing his eyes, but they startle open again a second later when Jared rolls overtop him and cups his face in both huge hands.  
  
"Jensen, _no_ ," he says, staring earnestly into Jensen's eyes. Jensen could have sworn they were brown before, but in the low light from the bedside lamp they look almost grey. "I wanted you to forget yourself. You were… god, you were everything I wanted. You were perfect."  
  
Jensen wants to flinch away from the intensity of Jared's stare, but somehow he meets it, letting Jared look his fill. When Jared's gaze drops longingly to Jensen's mouth, he licks his lips and says carefully, "You can kiss me. If you want. It's okay."  
  
A blush creeps up Jared's neck and cheeks, turns the tips of his ears dark pink. "I, uh, I already did," he confesses. "When you were, um, y'know, asleep. I didn't even consider that you might not do that. Sorry."  
  
"Oh," Jensen says, taking that in. Something about the idea of Jared taking the time to kiss him while he was asleep, when he couldn't even feel it, makes his stomach feel tight and warm. "You can kiss me while I'm awake. If you want."  
  
"Yeah?" Jared breathes. Jensen nods, and Jared dips down to brush the faintest suggestion of a kiss against his mouth, lips catching and slipping as he speaks. "What else can I do while you're awake?"  
  
Jensen turns his head to look at the clock, turns back to Jared with a smile. "We've got six more hours," he says into Jared's mouth. "What did you have in mind?"


End file.
